


Ghosts

by ThatNeedyZombie



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark until it's not, Enemies to Lovers, Feelings, Fluff, Forced Feminization, Forced Relationship, Kidnapped Waylon Park, Kidnapping, M/M, Misgendering, Misogyny, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Slurs, Smut, Stalker Eddie, Stockholm Syndrome, Unhealthy Relationships, weddie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:20:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29386188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatNeedyZombie/pseuds/ThatNeedyZombie
Summary: It’s been a year since the last time Waylon stepped a foot at Mount Massive, a poorly runed asylum where patients would often escape and assault every person crossing their paths. Though for Waylon a year doesn’t mean much… His mind his still trapped inside.He imagines a monster following him. But what happens if the beast finally grabs him?
Relationships: Eddie Gluskin/Waylon Park, Lisa Park/Waylon Park
Comments: 20
Kudos: 65





	1. Darling

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a native english speaker so, forgive me!  
> Enjoy ^^

In the night, every shadow seemed to hide a monster. Eyes glowing in the dark, a creepy grin on a scarred face, a surreal creature haunted Waylon Park. At least in his imagination, or so he thought.

He wouldn’t confess that to anyone, by fear to seem paranoid or having Lisa ask him if it’d something to do with his past job. Maybe it had, for all he knew! Spending hours in a poorly runed asylum, often chased by escaped patients, wondering if one wasn’t hiding a home-made knife to stab him… It probably didn’t help!

Even though he left Mount Massive Asylum more than a year ago, some of the patients seemed to have played a trick on his mind. He couldn’t get rid of them like he did with the job.

Quickly, Waylon pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. His hands were shaking. He lighted it, now stopped in the middle of his usual evening’s jogging track.

Smocking at home was forbidden, an idea he’d years ago and now regretted! But that was better for the boys.

“Fuck…” He sighed.

Maybe his day had been too stressful, and he was _again_ imagining things. Nothing was hidden in a bush nearby, none had run in the night with him, and nobody was staring at him as he stood in the middle of a gravel path.

For a few minutes, he felt calm again. His nose and mouth filled with the smock of his last cigarette of the day. He hadn’t much left of his jogging to do, soon he would be back home. Right in time to read the boys a story. They had a whole collection of books, tales from everywhere around the world and stories inspired by their favorite cartoons, enough material to entertain their imagination for years.

Waylon finished his cigarette, finally relaxed by the thought of the nice moment ahead of him when he heard something… A word.

“Darling.”

Waylon moved fast. His eyes wide open he scanned the park to see who was here with him. None… The park seemed empty of life except his own. A car could be heard somewhere, a dog was barking from where he came, all in streets far from his actual position, but no voice raised in the dark.

Was he slowly falling into dementia? Could the strange place he had worked at have affected him in a psychological way?

He’d once been told that, after seeing many horrors, a person could be changed to the point of becoming someone else. _Something else…_ Had even speculated the doctor Trager. Back then, he nodded and kept on working without giving much attention to a doctor who seemed as sane as his patients.

Now eager to leave, Waylon started to move in the direction of his home. Which suddenly seemed so far away.

His feet hammered the gravel, slowly creating a distance between himself and the place he stood only a few seconds before. That would be the last time he came there. Those nocturnal joggings weren’t helpful anymore, worst, they had become a new source of paranoia.

The park was too dark, poorly lightened by lamp spots here and there, and the lack of people Waylon used to enjoy now made him nervous. Or wasn’t it the opposite? _No._ Waylon thought, _or only if someone had really been there with him._ Something he doubted highly.

Halfway through the well-maintained path, Waylon heard something that made his hurt bounce in a way that was almost hurtful. Steps! Heavy steps. Someone was running behind him, their feet doing the same music as his against the gravel.

That wasn’t in his head, could it be? He didn’t dare to slow down and verify it nor to glance over his shoulders. Too many horror movies made him learn that was the best way to trip over nothing. Or see something he wouldn’t be able to forget. Instead, he ran faster.

For a second he thought someone called him “ _darling_ ” again, a charming voice, full of something close to despair but it’d to be in his head, everything must’ve been the traumas from the asylum trying to pull him back in the dark corridors during yet another riot.

Wasn’t there a patient who used to call him that?

Waylon pained to remember everything. The many chases he had, him, the little engineer who had been recruited to help put that rustic asylum into the new century, couldn’t count the times someone had ran after him. Never with good intentions. But he felt almost sure someone used to call him by this sweet name…

A part of him was freaking out while the other tried to rationalize, no way a patient from there could be in the park. Of course, that was easier to think without hearing the voice…

“Wait for me!”

Waylon made a high-pitched noise and ran even faster; he didn’t pay attention to the moment he left the park to end up on the road where a car almost hit him. He didn’t stop when the driver screamed after him. The only thing that mattered was to get home. With Lisa and the boys, in the security of their sweet home.

He kept running even when his body hurt, the ghost of his once injured ankle slowing him down a little. Though, not enough for whatever was behind to grab him and pull him in the shadows. Waylon’s determination to get home won on the invisible monsters chasing him, this time he knew the place too well, was too close to everything he loved to be touched by them.

After a short fight with his keys, he entered his hallway and slammed the door behind him. His breath short, legs like jelly and hands shaking, Waylon pressed his back against the door and savored the fact of being alive. It’d been close, he was sure of it. Close to what was a mystery. A real person, an escaped patient obsessed with him could’ve been running after him, that or the chase was a metaphor to his own mind trying to force him back in the dark corridors.

Nervous, he let go of an awkward laugh. Something he would’ve probably avoided to do if he’d seen Hugo and Dustin watching him from the living room.

Lisa joined them. With a frown, she asked the boys to go brush their teeth and added: “I won’t be long.” When they left, a bit lost, she walked to Waylon with a worried expression. “What happened? You know you can tell me everything.”

He considered it, really, but he didn’t want her to confirm his suspicions. Nothing would be more terrible than hearing her conclude the same thing. Like if she could read his mind, she nodded. “Fine, I’m going to read them a story and if you finally feel ready to tell me what’s haunting you, I’ll be there.” She bit her lips before pressing them on her husband’s cheek.

She wanted to help him, no matter what he was facing, but found herself before a wall of silence once again. Though, this time Waylon seemed more affected than the previous ones, maybe he would finally open up about it…

Still shaking, he watched her walk away and quickly glanced at the door’s window as soon as she went upstairs. It was so dark outside, not a shadow could be seen. A second, he caught something moving near their bushes, but the shiny eyes happened to belong to a neighbor’s cat. Seeing the animal made him sigh in relief. A short relief, what he heard in the park still hadn’t any explanation.

For the first time that year, he didn’t end the day by reading the boys a story but spied the outside of their house. Every window only showed him one thing, his own reflection…

He was in their bedroom when Lisa surprised him with a glass of whisky, judging it wouldn’t hurt her husband whose hands hadn’t stopped to shake since he came home from his jogging. He took it and sat on their bed. His head already heavy, the alcohol would do worst, but he couldn’t care less.

Lisa sat near him, a light smile across her face. “You’ll never go back there anymore.” She whispered. Lisa always knew what was up on Waylon’s head, she might not have all the details, but she saw him change since he made the mistake to accept a job there. And she was right, Waylon wouldn’t even drive close to that haunted place anymore. “And all the patients that scared you have been transferred, far from here. Mount Asylum has changed since you left, there’s no way they can escape and find you.”

Another fact. Another proof she knew exactly about the ghosts playing with his husband’s nerves. But for Waylon, it seemed like all the patients had been transferred right into his brain, causing him to slowly lose sense with reality. Something she noticed.

Softly, Lisa placed a card in his hand. “I’ll be by your side if you chose to call.”

“And if I don’t?” He quickly asked, like if calling this number would put him in danger. Seeing a psychiatrist didn’t enchant him after all of those he met there. They seemed to do worst to the patient’s minds than helping them.

“Then I’ll support you too.” She promised. “But not everyone’s like those you’ve met at Mount Massive.”

Waylon rose from the bed and walked to the window again. His wife, knowing, speaking, about this place felt wrong, so terribly wrong it made him sick. She didn’t know all the things he saw. She’d no idea what it had been to run for his life, screaming for help, expecting to die a horrible death in the dark under some maniacal laughter.

Mount Massive had changed him to a point he doubted there’d be a coming back. Now, the normal world seemed wrong. To him it was like a smile painted in red on a white wall near some incomprehensible phrases.

Waylon felt like playing life. He pretended to be happy, to enjoy some moments, to be a good father, husband… _Human_. Waylon had the impression of being an impostor, just a ghost who had lost his path and now, painfully, tried to believe he was alive.

He feared that, if he dared to even start moving from it, something would grab his wrists and force him back into the pure madness of the asylum. That thing incapable of remorse would wrap him in his shadow and devour him… Funny how that thought wasn’t a simple metaphor, that vision of nightmare happened to him. That one and many others…

He held his breath as a shadow, larger than the others, moved in front of their house. The time to even think about mentioning it to Lisa, and it disappeared, leaving Waylon with nothing but a sleepless night. 

***

He drank a coffee on his way to work. His head felt heavy, bags formed under his eyes and the world seemed to turn too fast for him to follow.

Nothing too unusual…

At work, everyone seemed in a good mood. They all talked happily while he was in the middle of those warm smile, scanning every shadow, ready to run for his life. He had to be ready.

When time to get home came, he sighed. Lisa and him probably would’ve the conversation again, and he couldn’t pretend to be tired every time his wife tried to bring up the subject. Talking, even to a psychiatrist, wouldn’t help him! It’d only make everything too real.

Behind his wheel, Waylon decided to stop somewhere to smoke what he promised himself was his last cigarette. No way he could become addicted.

He stopped his car in a parking near a restaurant, far enough from it to avoid people. Though, from there, he still could hear _life_. People leaving the place to join their cars and drive home. They were speaking with each other, and some families laughed about the good time they just had.

It felt like forever since he’d a real good family moment. No matter what, even the first months when he thought happiness finally was accessible again, his mind would always wander around the dark corridors of Mount Massive.

“Can I have one?” Waylon jumped at the voice who emerged from behind him. He turned to see a very tall man with a scarred face, dark hair, and deep blue eyes, towering him. The man was wearing a beautiful suit, so elegant he must’ve been invited to a marriage, or was he the groom? He worn such a large, happy and warm smile, even Waylon ended up blushing under his gaze.

Waylon stuttered something, still under the fright that the apparition provoked. With a shaky hand, he slid a cigarette into the man’s hand. Their skin touched, that’s only then that Waylon noticed how cold he was. The contact almost felt good.

“Thank you very much my dear.” Softly whispered the elegant man when Waylon lightened up his cigarette. He winked at him and to Waylon’s surprise, didn’t leave. Instead, he pressed his back against the car and started to smoke in silence. _Weird_.

Far from being comfortable, the smaller man still didn’t say a thing. Maybe this dude was simply socially awkward, which was something he could understand! Though, the silence made him feel nervous.

“It’s a beautiful day… I mean, for the season…” Waylon tried. Such an annoying start for a conversation but he too was socially awkward. Under the absence of response, he sighed and took a puff of his cigarette.

“A lady shouldn’t smoke.” Suddenly spoke _the groom_.

“I…” Waylon frowned under the sudden aggressivity coming from this stranger. Stanger? He’d a weird feeling, like if they’d not only met but talk before. “I’m not a wo…” It hit him, so violently he felt sick. They had met before and in the worst conditions ever…

Like a flash, he remembered everything from some of the longest hours of his life. The corridors were drowned in the dark as the electricity cut off once again at Mount Massive and Waylon complained about having his computer shut off in a middle of some important task. _Important…_ Funny how now he didn’t remember what was so important.

A call for help made him forget about his computer. He thought a new riot had started and an unfortunate doctor was now a toy in the hands of some patients… At least he used to see things like that, the opposite happened more often.

He’d only moved from his chair when two hands hit the window of his local and the man who had previously called for help directly begged for Waylon to save him. The despair could be seen all over his face.

The engineer would’ve, but two doctors grabbed the tall man.

That person, that patient, could only have been one of the rioters, and they were just trying to calm him down, avoiding another person to die violently there. He was so sure of that… Naïve and innocent Waylon Park.

Back then, he’d been plunged into the blue eyes, and it was happening again on this parking…

The groom watched him, his beautiful smile turning into a scary grimace as he let the cigarette fall and moved toward Waylon.

“Fuck…” This time, the danger existed. It couldn’t be ghosts playing in his head, the dude in front of him was very real.

The attempt to run didn’t work, they had been too close. One strong hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him backward while the other planted something into his arm. Time for Waylon to see the needle and already, the world spun around him.

He didn’t stand a chance against his aggressor. Little kicks, movements with his elbows… Nothing even made wince the groom who seemed strong enough to crush him against his torso if he wanted to. And with his limbs turning into jelly, escaping from this monster proved to be impossible.

All Waylon’s fears became real. A monster had caught him. And while his eyes closed to the uncertain future, a word was whispered into his ear.

“ _Darling_.”


	2. I want a girl

There was a noise, a strangely familiar one. To his ear it sounded like a ticking, it chimed the time like the grandfather clock Waylon’s grandparents owned.

For a period that could be minutes or hours, Waylon thought he was back in that old house. He could almost smell the lavender bouquet that’d always sat proudly on the kitchen table, inside a vase Waylon had bought for them with his pocket money. Everything was so simple back then. Life was just made of laughter and joy. Kid, Waylon only feared bugs, thunders, and the cracking noises the closet’ doors would make when wind entered the room.

But now adult, Waylon had so many fears. All more menacing than anything his kid’s mind could’ve come up with.

When he finally opened an eye, it was to the darkness. Only a trickle of light disturbed the shadows. It seemed to come from a cracked window, but Waylon couldn’t tell much from his position. Hell, he couldn’t even guess where he was. A basement probably. At least if he trusted the musty smell filling his nose. So far from the lavender one!

But which basement?

His blood ran cold at the thought of Mount Massive. He once hid in the basement there, holding his breath will some patients were looking after him. The smell of the chemical products (they’d smashed different bottles on the floor) was missing but it was similar enough for Waylon to panic. That’s when he understood something else: He couldn’t move. His wrists and ankles had been tied to the chair he sat on. Did they catch him?

As he lifted his eyes to see the light again, a sudden memory came back. And sooner than he would’ve liked, Waylon remembered the recent events, especially the tall man. What was his name? He’d to know it… A time, he knew all the patient names. And no doubts this person had been one.

His heart bounced violently when he heard a door. A second after, light coming from a globe lightened the room and revealed the place.

At first glance, it looked like some tailor storage: Sketch books stacked on the shelves, mannequins aligned against a wall and rolls of fabrics left on the floor. Their colors contrasted slightly with the rest, those other things that made Waylon understand he was inside a house and not a store… Things like: Shoe boxes covered in webs, and probably full of old family pictures if everyone were like his parents, rusty tools could be spotted under the shelves, and trinkets and baubles collected dust between the sketch books.

He was detained in a former patient’s _home_.

The tall man appeared at the bottom of the stairs; a large smile painted on his face. Waylon swallowed loudly. Just like in the parking, he couldn’t do anything against the groom.

“Such a delight seeing you awake my darling.”

The last word resonated like it did in the park. In front of him stood the person who’d terrorized him the night before. That same man who had begged for his help but also… Oh there had been so much more. Terrible things his mind chose to hide for his own good. This patient had chased him down in the asylum corridors while calling him different names than the one he seemed to cherish. He did things, terrible ones. But what? It was there, somewhere in Waylon’s brain, but it refused to become clear yet.

“Please!” Screamed Waylon as the man walked toward him.

“Don’t be afraid.” Soothed the former patient. “I’m here for you now.”

He knelt in front of Waylon and placed his large hands on his shaking legs.

Again, the blue eyes made the tied engineer feel submerged. Breathing became harder. There was something intense hidden in them, and that thing was far from the soft voice talking nice things to him. It was evil, dangerous, and screamed to be unleashed.

Suddenly, Waylon knew the name. He knew… remembered… too many things.

“Eddie… Eddie Gluskin.” He whispered.

“Yes, my love?” Eddie’ smile grow bigger.

This man was the most dangerous of them all, had said Dr. Trager. He’d killed. Many times! And the only thing he’d do if he were released from the asylum would be to kill again.

Eddie wanted to be loved. But he didn’t know _how_ to love someone without hurting them. He’d try to create himself the perfect life, the perfect wife, and when his illusions were broken…

Waylon didn’t want to die. Not now, not there.

“I… Why have you left me in the basement, Ed-Eddie?” He couldn’t sound natural, but he tried. If he managed to be brought upstairs maybe he’d be able to escape or scream for help.

“It’s temporary. I know it’s been quite some time seen the last time we saw each other, but I do remember the wanton bride you are. I wouldn’t like for you to hurt yourself like you did at Mount Massive.”

“You remember that?” Waylon found himself surprised. Eddie lied so much, to the doctors and to himself, he also lived in his illusion… Yet he knew how badly Waylon hurt his ankle during a chase!

“Of course, darling!” Eddie answered, offended. “I remember everything about you.”

Damn Waylon felt angry! Himself had forgotten about Eddie’s face, forgotten about his voice, his eyes, his old-fashioned manners… And about the things he’d tried to do at those he captured during the riots. All, forgotten until now, when it was too late. But the patient remembered everything instantly? It was unfair. After the nightmare he lived, Waylon deserved to be the one knowing.

Eddie moved his hands to Waylon’s ankle. The prisoner had had his shoes and socks removed which explained why his feet felt so cold. Eddie pulled the rope down a little. That one wasn’t marking the captive like the others, a proof that Eddie knew.

“You were suffering so much…” The fingers moved along the scar.

Waylon grimaced. When cold, his ankle tended to feel painful. Sometimes he’d the impression his blood dripped from the injury again, like if no wound made at the asylum could properly heal. The thought was reinforced when he saw the many scars Eddie had left on his face. They seemed about to re-open.

“I assure you it won’t happen again. Because this time, you won’t escape from me.” 

The promise sounded like a threat and Waylon would’ve been stupid to not take it as such. He nodded, incapable of speaking. Tears formed at the corner of his eyes at the realization escaping would be near impossible.

Eddie rose to his feet. Creepily, he watched Waylon a moment in complete silence. What did he want? What was he trying to find? Probably the perfect girl.

The prisoner forced a smile on his face and softly, picking his word precociously, he asked: “What are your plans for us now that I-I’m… here?”

“The same as before.”

“But Eddie… I can’t…” _I can’t what?!_ Thought Waylon. _Be your wife, live with you, have children, abandon my life to enter your illusion?_ The list went on but the occasion to even enunciate one of those things vanished when Eddie sighed.

The tall man lost his smile and turned his back on him. He climbed the stairs and abandoned Waylon to the darkness.

***

Time… A vague concept now. Waylon stopped paying attention to the water dripping somewhere and counting the minutes.

He only knew a day had passed. The basement seemed even more dangerous during the night where no light could be seen at all. Though, the scariest part had been the silence. Full, opaque. Not even cars could be heard from the house. But was it so surprising for Eddie fucking Gluskin to live removed from society?

The thin light was back now but seeing it with the impression it could disappear, and he’d still be there, prisoned, gave Waylon nausea.

Incapable of distracting himself with anything, Waylon let his thoughts drown him. Not like he could sleep while his body was freezing, from the cold or the terror, he’d yet to know.

For once, Mount Massive lost its place in Waylon’s mind. His principal preoccupation worn a face…

It couldn’t end well. Not with Eddie and his plans of a perfect life. The patient tried to castrated men at the asylum, high chances he’d try that on Waylon too. That or Waylon would say something wrong, broke whatever image Eddie had of him, and he’d be beaten to death.

The thought made him feel sicker. Ending there, far from everything he loved… He moved his hands and winced in pain. The ropes weren’t about to break. He’d tried with all his strength, even using his teeth, but it didn’t work.

“Fuck!” He sobbed.

Ever since the door closed, Waylon went from crying to stare at some random spot in the dark. Of course, the situation reminded him of Mount Massive... But in worst! This time, something had caught him. No more running and hiding. No Doctor Trager to talk with him at the end of the day and pathetically attempt to calm him down… The only thing that could happen was death.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He screamed. His throat sore, as much as his body, though he refused to stop. After a whole year of him being calm, acting like nothing was wrong, Waylon Park needed to evacuate his frustration. If a rage hid inside Eddie, one hid inside him too. 

Without any warnings, the door opened, and the light went on. Eddie’s steps hammered the wooden stairs and then the basement’s floor.

Waylon’s eyes grew wide as the man furiously approached him. He wanted to put more distance between them, but he couldn’t even make the chair fall with his weight. He could only watch. 

Another scream left his mouth when two hands grabbed his collar and lifted him of the floor with the chair. Eddie was monstrously strong.

“Language!” Commanded Eddie harshly.

Before Waylon could understand anything, he was thrown against the shelves. It seemed like everything collapsed around him. The sketch books, trinkets, shoe boxes… They all ended up on the floor with Waylon and the now broken furniture. The din was such that, if a neighbour existed, they must’ve heard it.

One day. That was all it took for Eddie to break his promise. Blood dripped from Waylon’s forehead and he could’ve sworn his right wrist broke on the impact just like the chair did. Painfully, he moved his limps and freed himself from the ropes, but he was too slow to get on his feet and run.

“This is why we can’t have nice things!”

The groom pulled him by his ankle, all the mercy he’d shown previously had disappeared. His fist broke the air and hit the floor. Waylon learned how to avoid being hit the hard way. And after a year, he still possessed the reflexes he developed there.

The pain made Eddie lose his grasp on him.

_‘It’s now or never_ ‘, thought Waylon.

He walked on broken porcelains while making his way to the stairs. Just new wounds from a growing collection that is new life offered. The adrenaline made him stronger than the pain.

He ran up the stairs and passed the door, leaving footprints behind him. Blinking because of the sun devouring the kitchen, Waylon quickly looked around him to find a door that’d lead him outside, far from the groom.

“Come back here!”

The groom ran after him. His feet were beating up the stairs with more determination than before.

Waylon didn’t stay to see Eddie emerge from the basement; he ran toward the front of the house where he’d noticed a door leading outside. His hands slipped on the doorknob. That’s when he noticed they presented multiples cuts too, the blood dripped from his palm, colouring his fingers, to end on the floorboard.

Not caring about a pain that’d torture him later, he insisted on the doorknob just to find the maniac had taken the time to close it.

“Think you can leave me, slut?”

The impressing shadow enveloped the entrance hall. It let no other choices to Waylon but to take the stairs to his right. Maybe if he jumped from an upstairs window, he’d win enough time to escape from Eddie.

He entered the first room he saw and froze a second. This was a kid bedroom. Toys and decoration that came from another period ornate the small space. Something was wrong here. Bad things happened; Waylon felt that in his bones. And bad things were about to happen again…

Safety bars had been installed to the window. They were old but Waylon knew breaking them in time was impossible.

“Women!” raged Eddie behind him. He wrapped his fingers around Waylon’s forearm and tried to pull him out of the room. The engineer fought with everything he had. His weakness compared to the former patient strength was alarming.

He owned his survive to the cheap shirt he worn that day. The tissue didn’t resit, and the sleeve torn off.

“Eddie, please.” He begged while he fell on the old carpet. His eyes in Eddie’s own, Waylon crawled backward. No escape now. Just him against the beast.

Though, suddenly his assailant slowed down.

Eddie put a hesitant foot inside the room. The tall man seemed to fear something, probably the thing Waylon felt when he entered the room. Waylon puzzled the pieces together, judging by his surrounding and Eddie’s age, it must’ve been his bedroom. And it was obvious this place carried some horrible ghosts.

“Come here.” Articulated the groom from his position. His confidence left him. The voice talking now sounded more like one that begged for help all this time ago at Mount Massive. 

“No!”

“Behave!” The groom stepped outside. Like if staying one more second inside this bedroom could’ve changed him into ashes. His hands turned into fists; the rage painted his face in a darker shade of red, but he stayed out.

Waylon tried to catch his breath. The break was welcome, physically exhausted, the younger man needed to figure out a plan before the chase began again.

Breaking the bars? He doubted to have the time. Whatever invisible barrier stopped the groom from entering wouldn’t last long enough for him to do that. And that was without taking count of the adrenaline rush leaving him.

The pain, he felt it now. Broken porcelain had entered his skin, some pieces were still under his feet. And his ankle… The forced sprint he did from the park to his home and the one he did now had had consequences on it.

Pitifully, he placed his feet underneath him and tempted to get up. His own scream freaked him out. No, he wouldn’t be able to run anymore.

“Darling…” Eddie’s voice had softened for good. “Let me take care of you.”

His back pressed against the child’s bed; Waylon watched the groom’s hand inviting him out of the room. This man wasn’t the same as the one who had run after him. Not exactly. “You’re bleeding my love, you need help.”

“You’re right, I need help. Eddie… You need to call an ambulance. Can you do that for me?” Waylon had the impression to talk to his sons and not to the tall man standing in the doorway.

Eddie tilted his head then nodded. “I shall do that. But first, come with me darling. We need to clean your wounds before it turns like your poor ankle did.”

“No. Ambulance first.” Insisted Waylon.

The groom frowned then grinned. “Women… Do you think yourself smart than I? When you’re done minx, join me in the kitchen. A nice meal will be waiting for you.”

And to that he simply left. Like if a couple of minutes, heck _seconds_ , before he wasn’t trying to kill him.

Waylon heard the heavy steps in the stairs, abandoning him like if there was no risk he could escape. The former patient probably knew something he didn’t. Perhaps every window had safety bars and breaking them would make enough noises for him to hear it from downstairs before his prisoner could even jump. Or perhaps had he noticed the poor state of the said prisoner.

Not just the multiples injuries. Except from a coffee and a few cigarettes, Waylon hadn’t consumed anything in almost two complete days!

Around an hour passed and he hadn’t moved an inch. His limbs had gone numb, his head felt heavier than when he woke up in the basement and the delicious smell coming from downstairs tortured his empty stomach.

No doubt the former patient knew what he was doing. Former… or escaped. Probably escaped. Waylon hadn’t even taken the time to think about that detail, perhaps because it was insignificant to him. Eddie Gluskin wasn’t maintained in an asylum anymore, and nothing mattered apart from that.

The night pointed out sooner than Waylon would’ve wished, and he still were in the same position. Though the silence didn’t reign over the house, Eddie had put on some vintage music. His obsession to find _the girl_ pursued him in his favourite song. Or at least Waylon guessed it must’ve been his favourite since it played on repeat all this time.

A groan emerged from him when he finally moved from his position. He gathered himself and, hands on the dusty bed sheets, used the last strengths in his arms to stand up.

“Shit…”

His feet wouldn’t carry him far. Grimacing, he stumbled in the bedroom until facing the window. There he left more of his blood while fighting to open it. The home had been neglected, or at least that room, the old painting held the swinging windows together. It was near impossible to open them. Near… Waylon did it. But no time to celebrate the small victory, the safety bars stood between him and the liberty. A liberty made of trees losing their leaves and giving the outside world an eerie atmosphere that perfectly married the house. It was a wooden area, probably a large forest lost in the mountains if Waylon trusted his luck.

“Of course!” He laughed to himself. Those bars wouldn’t break any time soon! Even with tools it’d be hard, and Waylon only had his broken hands.

This bedroom never had been a key to safety nor liberty, it was a cage. For him and probably for the kid that once lived there.

If he returned to his place on the floor, even a minute to get rid of the things in his feet like he should already have, that’d be over. If he wanted to survive, he needed to continue.

He tiptoed to the door and risked a glance in the hallway. No Eddie there. The man was downstairs, enjoying the music and doing god knew what, while the person he kidnapped wondered upstairs. Waylon understood what it meant but he had to verify it himself, and just like he thought, every window had security bars… The master bedroom, the bathroom, and even the smaller room where a sewing machine had been abandoned. All were prisons. They, also, all showed Waylon miles and miles of woods he’d have to run into before even joining a road and find help.

No attic to be seen so… Only two options were left: going back to the bedroom and die there or trying to find a way out downstairs. With the music, it wasn’t screaming but loud enough to cover Waylon’s steps in the stairs, maybe Eddie wouldn’t hear him.

Shaking, Waylon walked into the bloody footprints he’d left earlier and joined the hall. The door was still closed but he checked it anyway.

Next, he looked around him and saw the living room. Just like the kid bedroom, the place seemed to belong to another period, like if time froze in the Gluskins’ home during Eddie childhood. There was a window, his key to freedom.

Four steps, that’s all he did before two hands fell on his shoulders. Where had Eddie hidden? How could someone so impressive make less noises than him?

Waylon held his breath, preparing himself to be thrown in the room, to feel pain attack every inch of his body, but only the thumbs moved to massage him.

“Be careful darling, what you choose to do next will impact our future.” Whispered Eddie into his ear. His breath brushed Waylon’s neck; they were so close. More than the reason why the groom was free, Waylon felt insignificant. He could die there, and nobody would know, maybe not even the man standing behind him.

A terrible second, he imagined his decomposed body being moved around by an Eddie calling him sweet names…

He pressed his back against Eddie’s torso and let the hands manhandling him.

“Little minx, look at you.” The groom scolded him when they finally were face to face. He took his hands and watched the cuts ruining the beautiful skin.

It hurts, so much that tears rolled down Waylon’s face.

“I’m so sorry Eddie.” Waylon quickly spoke as he saw the older man frown deepening. “Please, help me?” 

The grip on his hands tightened but before he could panic, Eddie’s warm smile was back on his face. “Darling… I hope you’re worth it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this chapter was good! Thanks for the love, kudos and comments mean A LOT!! Free serotonine hehe  
> And sorry if I take so much time to update, english haaaard!!


	3. Dark Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to be longer, but I'm already late (due to personal stuff) and so, I think it's better to post it as such!   
> Next one, I promise, will be longer!

Eddie Gluskin wasn’t a doctor! Nor a nurse or anything close. His patience ran short, his gestures tended to be brutal, and he used more disinfectant than Waylon had ever put on his ankle during his whole convalescence!

He wrapped bandages around each wound and forced painkillers down the ‘whiny’ patient’s throat.

“You could make an effort and bleed less.” Reproached the groom. If Waylon’s left hand kept bleeding, Eddie would’ve to suture it himself. Something the patient didn’t want! Having every little piece of porcelain removed from his body hurt so much that the idea of more suffering made him sick.

His grimace offended the groom. “I’m quite skilled in sewing darling, wait until you see the dresses that I made you. It’ll enhance your femininity.”

“D… dresses?” Waylon stuttered. Of course, there’d be dresses! And after he’d have to let his hair grow, lose weight, act like the housewife from the old tv show Eddie seemed to believe to be his childhood.

“Yes, you heard me. I won’t tolerate a tomboy in my home.”

Waylon rolled his eyes, uncertain of how much time he’d be able to deal with that.

The kidnapped man plan was simple: Survive until being strong enough to escape. Maybe by then, he could even win Eddie’s trust and escape easily.

Though if he’d an occasion before his recovery… He wasn’t sure to be able of simply letting a chance pass. Yet, in the other hand if he failed to escape and Eddie caught him, things wouldn’t be pretty.

Eddie hummed his favourite tune in rhythm with the radio as he finished. Seemingly proud of his work, he smiled to Waylon and brushes the hair off the cut on his forehead. That one wasn’t deep. A bit of disinfectant and he was completely done taking care of his darling.

“Thank you.” Waylon said with a forced smile. He glanced at his wrist; bandages had been applied there too even though it had only been bruised.

“Nonsense darling. I wasn’t going to let you in such a state.” He watched Waylon intensely. God those eyes… In another life, much different than this one, Waylon would’ve blushed under them. Now it scared him more than anything.

After a moment that seemed so long, the groom finally moved to grab food and drinks in the kitchen.

In a frightening silence, Eddie literally fed Waylon the potatoes, chicken and broccoli. Like if he didn’t trust the younger man with his cutlery. As arguing with Eddie fucking Gluskin while he held a knife seemed stupid, Waylon didn’t even fight it. He could survive the humiliation of being sat on someone’s knees and fed like a if he were nothing but a doll a kid played with.

At least, the former patient could cook… Though anything would’ve seemed delicious to a starving Waylon.

Once the plate empty, Eddie pressed a water bottle to his darling’s lips, stroking the blonde hair and humming that little tune again. God how Waylon hated that stupid song… His throat sore from the screaming and crying, Waylon drank heavily which pleased the former patient.

“Good girl.” Cooed Eddie. The giggle that followed sounded surreal. Did it really come from the scary man who’d tried to kill him more than once already?

“More?”

“No, I’m fine Eddie. Thanks.” Being polite toward his stalker/kidnapper annoyed him so much! But he didn’t want to give the groom a chance of becoming his killer.

Eddie left the living room enough time for Waylon to scan it, no phone in the old house but perhaps was it in one of the few rooms he hadn’t visited yet…

If only he hadn’t left his phone in his car on that damn parking! Though, like his shoes and his socks, it would’ve been confiscated.

No traces of any car keys either. There must’ve been one though, else how could’ve Eddie brought him here without being caught? Waylon believed less in this option than on the one consisting of running in the woods. Someone who took his time to remove his victim’s shoes and socks wouldn’t be stupid and let an easy access to a car…

When he heard the steps coming back, Waylon moved his hands on his knees and tried to look as innocent as he could. In his plan to survive, never angering his _host_ was a primordial step. And if it meant forcing himself to wear the white dress the man brought with him…

“This one is a nightgown.” Explained Eddie. He placed it on the couch next to his darling and started to unbutton the shirt stained in red.

“Hey! Wait!” Waylon screamed in horror. Eddie froze, his eyebrow raised but no signs of anger. “I-I can undress myself alone.”

The younger man’s face turned red as he spoke. He kept his gaze on his hands, begging internally to not be killed.

Being naked in a stranger living room? That was survivable. But having the blue eyes on him? Nope! The illusion Eddie had of him could be shattered and then… No doubt his broken body would be burry under the dead leaves somewhere in a dark corner of the forest around them. And that was without considering the second option, if the illusion were too good, as opaque as the night outside, and that the groom enjoyed the view too much…

A long minute passed before a sigh troubled it. “I appreciate a woman being prude but not in front of her future husband.”

Waylon folded his arms and pressed his back against the couch. A little bit of resistance couldn’t kill, right?

“Darling, let’s not be ridiculous.” A pressure on the injured wrist and the fight ended. “Behave now.”

Pouting like the situation was less dramatic, Waylon let the groom strip him to his underwear.

Even if it was dangerous, he crossed his arms over his chest again. This time to hide the part of his body the groom’s eyes landed on. A flat chest probably thought Eddie… At least if the little bit of disappointment Waylon deciphered on his face meant anything.

He turned his head and, now standing in the middle of the living room, stepped back when Eddie tried to move his arms away. Why did he so wanted to see it if Waylon’s body disappointed him anyway? The younger man wasn’t offended but still…

“Little minx.” Laughed Eddie at the vision of a pouty Waylon protesting in an inoffensive way.

His laugh… Again, it seemed to come from someone else. Perhaps a version of Eddie if his life had been different. If someone had helped him while he needed it the most…

The thumbs moving under the waistband of his underwear abruptly put Waylon out of his thoughts.

“Not this!” He commanded. His voice sounded terribly weak.

Under the large shadow that was the groom, Waylon felt like if he were the Gluskin’s house surrounded by the trees. Their dark shapes a mysterious threat reinforced by the night. Every time the groom lost his smile, the threat grown and soon... He’d be devoured by it. Just like the house eaten by the trees’ shadows.

His breath suddenly hitched. Since how many times was his suffocating? It felt like forever since the last time he could’ve breathed normally.

The panic was at its paroxysm.

“No, no, no, my love. Don’t cry. I…”

“Not this.” Repeated Waylon unable to shut his mouth. “Please Eddie, that’s the only thing I’m asking you.”

The tears wetted his cheek while he moved his hands to Eddie’s own. An anxiety attack at the worst moment was just something he lived with since the very first day he walked inside the asylum. Though this time it could cost him more than his boss looking at him with an annoyed expression.

Was it his distress or the old fashion way Eddie seemed to see everything? Waylon didn’t know, but it worked.

“Fine… Keep that thing on you.” The groom moved his hands away and placed the gown into Waylon’s arms. “Cover yourself now.”

“Gladly!” retorted the younger man. Like if he were the one who’d wanted to be half naked…

His body sore, Waylon had difficulties, but he managed to hide his body from the too curious eyes.

Eddie didn’t lie about his skills! The white nightgown looked like if it’d been bought in a prestigious store, exactly like those brides would wear on their wedding nights. The satin and silk slid on Waylon’s skin like rain would. It enhanced his curves in a way he would’ve rather not. Surely, the piece of clothing hadn’t been only made to be watched. It asked to be touched, caressed, slid along a body until fully exposing it.

To be honest with himself, and as strange as it might’ve sound to anyone, Waylon appreciated the texture. It felt great on him after the days he had. And those that were left to come…

“Darling, look at you. You could be so beautiful.” Eddie adjusted the spaghetti straps. His fingers caressed the soft skin, a contact that made Waylon shiver. Was it better or worst than the fists? Somehow, both. “I can fix you, make you better, it’ll ask you some efforts, but I’ll always be here.”

Eddie’s face was now at a few inches of Waylon’s.

“It… it can wait, right Eddie?” Waylon swallowed loudly. Thinking too much about what the groom meant would only terrorize him further! Of course, he knew, and he’d give so much for it to not be the case. “I’m too weak right now.”

The groom nodded, seemingly lost in his contemplation. What was he seeing? His eyes were full of stars like if something else stood in front of him. Couldn’t be just Waylon. Dark circles formed under his eyes, blood stains marked his _too_ pale skin, and it looked like a thunderstorm happened in his hair, he was far from even looking ‘pretty’. No… The idealized perfect girl replaced his image to the groom’s eyes.

Eddie’s hands moved from Waylon’s shoulders to cup his face. For a second, he stopped breathing. Was he going to kiss him? Their lips were so close to meet.

The former patient ran his thumbs on the engineer cheeks like a blind man would do to discover his lover’s face. Maybe was this the occasion to try something…

“Hm…” He only had to open his mouth to get all Eddie’s attention, _his real attention_ , back on him. “The dress is… cute. But you do understand I can’t be left in the basement with only that one me? It’s too cold there, I’ll catch death!”

The groom frowned. His thumbs now frozen on the cheeks.

“You can put me anywhere else. Heck, even in a fucking closet or a wardrobe! But…”

“Language.” Cut Eddie.

To that followed the longest apologies Waylon had ever done in his life. Not because he’d a lot to say, but because his stuttering wouldn’t let him form correct sentences.

No swearing in the Gluskin house, he needed to remember that. If it were the same in his home, in front of his children, here the consequences could be devastating. Everything tended to be intense around this man.

The hands left his face and if they turned into fists, Eddie only announced future punishments to come in case his darling couldn’t watch her words. Not now though.

“As you said, you’re too weak…” The hate filled his voice as surely as his eyes. The last word, a spite. Like if weakness were a thing Eddie could barely tolerate.

Waylon bowed his head and let Eddie guide him upstairs, far from the cold and dark basement were he’d already suffered too much to his taste. Following Eddie in the stairs hurt his feet. A bit mad, all the gentleness showed earlier had disappeared again.

Learning how to survive around him was going to be painful! But he needed to learn quickly if he wanted his recovery to even happen.

Passing before the kid bedroom, Waylon watched the blood he’d left there. Less than he thought, more than it should’ve.

He whimpered when Eddie forced him to walk faster like if he feared that something would jump out of the room and attack them. It was fear, an oppressing one, that took over the groom’s angry expression.

The intrigued brown eyes left the scarred face when they suddenly stopped in front of the bathroom.

“You need to… um… powder your nose?”

_Really?!_ Thought Waylon. The dude who kidnapped him couldn’t say the word “pee” in front of him… Though he accepted. The idea of applying cold water on his face sounded nice. 

“Good. Once you’re done, go to our bedroom. It’s the door at the end of the hallway but I see you already visited it.”

Waylon had left blood everywhere he went. 

“I’ll join you there.” To that Eddie went back downstairs without another word.

The events seemed to repeat themselves, like if Waylon was meant to be abandoned with his thoughts. And those were agitated by Eddie’s words.

The cold water didn’t do him good. Worst, his hands’ bandages were now wet!

Overthinking about the implication of going into the master bedroom with Eddie for the night, where he knew only one -too small for his taste- bed stood, stole the small pleasure the gesture could’ve given him. Nothing about it sounded good. But he obeyed.

In his growing list to survive Eddie Gluskin, behaving held the top place. One contrariety, and the chase would start.

His heart beating faster than when he ran to escape from the groom, Waylon stood in the middle of the room, waiting for whatever would come. He imagined the worst. But if Eddie followed those old traditions, then maybe nothing too awful would happen. They weren’t married. Unlike the persons to which the bedroom belonged… Something Waylon guessed at the view of two rings embroidered on a pillow. It was placed on a chair near the bed, a teddy bear sat next to it.

The furniture in the room seemed old enough to have been owned by Eddie’s parents, like so many things in the old house, but no pictures of the couple could be seen. Frames had been all removed from the walls. Violently, if the traces left where anything to go by. It added on the mysterious family that once lived there.

They were probably much different from Waylon’s own, at least if his instinct weren’t lying to him. Violence occurred here. Love? Waylon could decipher some, but it all looked like a mask covering a scattered face, it was there to hide the lies, there to cheat with any stranger’s eyes. Just like that teddy bear with which no kid had ever played. It seemed so obvious to Waylon… Why? He didn’t know exactly. Maybe was it all inspired by the way his kidnapper feared his childhood.

Moving slowly in the room, because of the pain and fear, Waylon grabbed the teddy bear. His eyes were dark, as much as the heart of those who bought it many years ago. It made him sick. Just like it did when he saw how it twisted the groom’s facial traits when they passed before his childhood bedroom.

Wasn’t that kind of empathy fucked up?

Yes, decided Waylon, before shaking his head and letting go of the plush.

“Who said you could touch that?”

And… reason why it was fucked up to feel bad for Eddie Gluskin was Eddie Gluskin himself. His voice made Waylon jump like if he’d been caught trying to flee.

“Well… You did say it was _our_ bedroom.” Argued Waylon.

“Come here.”

Waylon did as he was told, scared to the point of feeling his eyes burning. Since when had he cried so much? Not so long. Truth to be told, he cried everyday he worked at Mont Massive and the weeks that followed. Heck… Even months after!

Maybe he shouldn’t talk back. This was like being back at school and playing smart ass against the bullies twice time his seize. Back then, his best friend would always stand for him but now… Waylon was alone against the danger.

Though the danger had a strange way to react!

Eddie wrapped his arms around him and hugged his smaller frame. The bone crushing embrace lasted until Eddie finally desired to let him go.

“You’re right darling, this place is yours too. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t let you look around and plan some changes?” He pressed his lips on Waylon’s cheek. It happened so fast the younger man couldn’t react. “But for now, we shall sleep. You deserve to rest my love.”

Rest… For once Waylon’s smile was real. The fact that his legs were still supporting his weight was surprising!

The groom carried Waylon in his arms like a bride and placed him softly on his side of the bed. Unable to do anything but feel relieved to not have faced punishment, the prisoner simply let his kidnapper do. When he got the occasion, he hid his body under the covers. The nightgown too revealing and the blue pearls too curious.

Of course, before joining him, Eddie put on the door lock. This almost made Waylon laugh! Like he was going to risk escaping in the middle of the night, in a place he didn’t know, and with his body as broken as the many things that fell from the shelves with him…

The smartest thing to do now was sleeping. Though… Was it in Eddie’s plans?

When the man moved toward him, Waylon held his breath. But Eddie… Eddie simply kissed him goodnight before going back to his side and closing his eyes.

The sigh of relieve that came from Waylon must’ve been heard but no violent reaction burst out because of it.

At least on one thing he’d been right, Eddie was too old fashioned to try anything immediately. And so, Waylon authorized himself to fall asleep in the groom’s bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! My personal favorite part is when they start understanding each other more and it's coming next. Again sorry it's yet another short chap but... life, am I right xD   
> Also thank you all so much for the comments, kudos, hits... Everything! It makes me so happy to share this with you  
> MUCH LOVE!!


	4. Buddy!

The dreams he did that night were all nightmares. Chase, hide and seek games… No sight of anything physical running after him, just a voice following his every gesture everywhere and calling him the sweetest names before suddenly screaming in rage how a _whore_ , a _slut,_ he was.

During the screams, the voice seemed to have hundreds of different intonations. Like if it were the whole asylum yelling at him. They wanted to hurt him, not kill but destroy every inch of his person. And maybe, they even managed to do it.

Everyone could see there was a before and after Mont Massive Waylon. The one from before would’ve never fail into Eddie’s trap in the parking, and he surely would’ve never stop fighting, even because of the pain.

He woke up covered in sweat. Feeling almost happy to be in this very bedroom, better than being trapped in the asylum again. It still was a prison, but here a morning sun warmed the room and a breakfast had been left on his nightstand.

No sign of Eddie, only noises coming from the hallway. His ears told him the former patient looked for something in a toolbox. If Waylon weren’t very manual, he preferred for Miles to come by and do the hard work, he still built the cabane for his kids and fixed a few things in their house.

Wouldn’t be surprised if many things needed to be fixed in such an old home! Though, not everything could… He glanced to the teddy bear facing him from his spot on the chair. Eyes still full of darkness.

He turned his head as he preferred to stare at the place Eddie had left empty. When he felt ready, Waylon finally sat up and rubbed his eyes. His bandages were new. Proof that when he wanted, Eddie could be as gentle as the doctors who took care of his ankle.

The absence of blood on his new bandages was also a pleasant surprise, the “tailor” wouldn’t have to use his so incredible skills on Waylon’s skin so soon.

Not even considering skipping a meal, Waylon ate everything up and only then, left the bed. Walking into the hallway, he noticed how the house seemed less menacing when lightened up by the sun, even the large shadow standing near the stairs didn’t impress him.

Eddie took something from the red toolbox, a hammer, and then turned to face Waylon.

Now, with a hammer, yes… The silhouette at the end of the corridor was scary but Waylon didn’t run.

“Good morning Eddie.” He risked.

The tall man tilted his head before dropping the hammer on the floorboard.

Like if they hadn’t seen each other in days, he rushed to Waylon and held him in arms, his fingers like claws to keep his bride in place. Shyly, the bandaged hands moved to reciprocate the embrace. The groom’s muscles tensed under the hands and Waylon heard a surprised noise coming from Eddie. It’d for effect to change the way he held him, to soothe it.

“Did you sleep well darling?”

“Yes.” Lied Waylon. Sleeping well didn’t exist in his world anymore. Not when he kept losing himself in those corridors. “What were you doing?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

A chaste kiss on his darling’s cheek and Eddie got back to work. A work Waylon was far from appreciated!

Wooden planks, nails, a hammer, all placed in front of the kid bedroom which had its door closed now… If he could begin to understand why Eddie wanted to close forever a door giving an access to his -probably- worst memories, he couldn’t let him do. This was his safe place. Without that room, he would’ve been dead! Where else was he going to hide?

“Hm… Eddie? Those are the same clothes as yesterday?” Waylon grimaced while pointing his finger at the dress shirt who’d seen better days.

“Why, yes.”

“That’s what I thought. I can’t let you go on your day like that, is there a washing machine somewhere? I can take care of that for you.”

The suggestion brightened up Eddie’s face. Lucky him, he had found the perfect housewife and he wasn’t short on words about it! That attitude irritated Waylon so much he wrinkled his nose. Though, he lost that expression when Eddie started to undress in front of him.

Now this was a spectacle he hadn’t endured last night since the groom slept with his clothes on. He quickly turned his head away and crossed his arms, suddenly remembering how revealing the nightgown was. And it was cold in this hallway! Unless he caught a cold when his uncaring host had tied him in the basement, because his whole body shivered, and he felt his face heat up.

Of course, it’d nothing to do with Eddie removing his shirt.

A glance and he could see that the tall man’s body was covered in scars. Some seemed to have always been there while others must’ve been made at the asylum. Those gave that strange impression of being ready to bleed at any given moment. Waylon wondered if the doctors had done those or if it were other patients, fighting for their life against the groom who wanted to make them his brides. Some were without a doubt better fighter than the small engineer! And most would’ve already escaped by now.

But here he was. His face turning red while his kidnapper pulled off his pants and then, handled him his ceremonial outfit. Had he sewed it himself too? Probably! The work was impressing. Hard to believe he did that with his thick fingers.

As Waylon took the clothes, it was impossible to refrain himself from starring. And what he saw… It terrorized him! Those legs looked like the trees outside, so strong, no wind could ever break them. And Waylon was supposed to outrun those things with his skinny ones?!

He did it in the park, but it must’ve been luck, or Eddie didn’t want to get him that time, just scare him. Why? At that point Waylon had no clue. Who could know what was going on in Gluskin’s mind?

“The laundry room is next to the kitchen; you won’t miss it.” Explained Eddie, hands on his hips as if his body weren’t intimidating enough. At least he’d kept his underwear!

Waylon, now red from his cheeks to his ears, walked past him. The sooner he’d be far from Eddie Gluskin and his muscles, the better.

“Wait!” Waylon froze. What had he done? Maybe it was his smile or his voice or his eagerness to leave was so obvious, Eddie noticed it.

“You didn’t kiss me good morning darling.” He worn a smug smile as he talked.

The asshole. Of course, he wanted his stupide kiss _now_!

Waylon glared at him, but it left Eddie unmoving. That kiss wasn’t negotiable. And testing Eddie’s patience on the matter didn’t tempt him the smallest bit. If the kiss were forced, nothing would stop that mountain of a man to steal more. Waylon could survive a kiss and he knew it had to happen. More… He’d rather not to think about it.

Holding the clothes like his life depended on them, the smaller man closed the space between them. Has he ever felt so small? Directly facing Eddie’s broad torso, he’d the impression of being the smallest thing in the universe. That made his blush deepening further.

To be near the other man’s face, he had to stand on his toes and even that wasn’t enough to reach his mouth. Fortunately -or more, unfortunately- Eddie helped him out by approaching. A hand strongly placed on Waylon’s back to steady him.

Eyes closed; Waylon quickly pressed his lips on Eddie’s own.

Unlike his eyes, Eddie’s lips were warm. They softly caressed his, a gentle stroke accompanied by a humming of satisfaction. The groom needed affection, and as incredible as it might’ve seemed, he was far from being rough or anything close to brutal.

When they parted, Waylon’s mouth fell open under the admiration filling Eddie’s eyes. And was he red too? It didn’t matter. Nope. Waylon needed to run from this awkward situation before being forced to give more.

Eddie didn’t try to force him to stay but his eyes didn’t leave the smaller man. He devoured him.

“Darling?” Called the groom again when Waylon joined the stairs.

“What? What have I forgotten this time?” He was so close to escape that vision… What could that man want again from him? Wasn’t stealing his liberty not enough?

The smug smile still on, Eddie simply told him: “The cheek would’ve been perfect, but you’re such a little wanton.”

To that he walked to the bathroom and let Waylon alone with his embarrassment. Asshole… Couldn’t say that sooner, eh?

When he passed in front of the entry door a detail finally hit him, there was no more blood in the house. Nothing on the doorknob, on the floor, or on the banister.

The clock over the living room’s fireplace indicated that it was still early in the morning, Eddie hadn’t slept much. Maybe him too had to deal with terrible nightmares.

_So sad_ … Waylon smirked. There was no reason for him to be the only one followed by Mont Massive’s ghosts. The ‘thing below’, as some called him, deserved to carry some with him!

Walking slowly, his feet wouldn’t be ready for a marathon so soon, he headed to the kitchen were the dishes waited in the sink. If Eddie imagined his _perfect bride_ was going to wet his hands, well, he should think again!

No way he’d become his slave.

The door to the laundry room was directly next to the fridge, impossible to see it from the basement doorway. Which was good. The little door with a tinted glass wouldn’t have protected him from the groom’s rage! Nothing could’ve but Eddie’s past. Of everywhere he could’ve gone to, Waylon congratulated himself to have picked the only place where the monster couldn’t enter. After the clothes, he would’ve to find a distraction to stop Eddie from closing his safe place.

Could they talk about it? He doubted any conversation would lead them far! But that’d be something to try in case nothing else worked.

Waylon frowned as he entered the ridiculously small room where a brand-new washing machine waited for him. He didn’t frown because the laundry appliances were new, but because his left hand touched something in the pocket of Eddie’s pants. A small object.

His palms became sweaty as he retraced the form hidden under the tissue. Keys! Better, car keys! Could the car be close? Next to the house even?

From the upstairs windows, he hadn’t seen anything, and it was the same for what he saw from this floor in his way to the laundry room, but it still wasn’t impossible for it to be close. And if it were just at the end of the old gravel path leading to the home, a path he saw from the kid bedroom, maybe he still stood a chance. That if Eddie was in shower…

A lot of ‘ _if’_ and two poor feet he barely took in consideration so far! His brain worked fast. Running now? He wouldn’t get far with the pain.

He thought about another plan: Hiding the keys and use it as soon as he got an opportunity. Less risk to get caught by the groom if he knew exactly were to go and if he was able to run properly.

Shaking like a leave assaulted by the wind, he took the keys and wrapped his fingers around it. It felt like touching his liberty. So happy to see Waylon behaving as he wanted him to, Eddie made a huge mistake, and Waylon wasn’t going to let that pass.

He lifted the hem of his nightgown, well decided to hide the key in the only place he could, not like that stupid dress had pockets.

Before he could make the keys disappear in his underwear, it fell on him. Smashing his dreams of freedom. Two hands met his skin in a rough way, one coming around his neck while the other, so large, grabbed his wrist and its fingers imprinted his thigh.

“Shit.” He whispered to himself while dropping the clothes on the floor.

Eddie Gluskin was behind him, his half naked body against his and his breath stroking Waylon’s hair. This man was a shadow, _the shadow_. Waylon should’ve known none ever escape from their nightmares. Not when they were built at Mont Massive asylum. 

“Hmm… Such a soft skin.” Hummed Eddie. “Shame it belongs to an ungrateful bitch.”

The groom’s voice sounded calm before changing. The rage, his frustration, opacifying it. Yet the aggressivity wasn’t as tough as yesterday.

“I-I’ve found your keys, Eddie. I was going to give them back to you.” Adventured to explain Waylon. If he tried, maybe he could fix the situation. “I put them there because… I-I didn’t want to forget about it.”

The pressure applied on the injured hand was such it drained tears from the tired eyes.

“And a liar.” Now the voice sounded like thunder. A sound muffled under Waylon’ scream as the hand tightened its grip around his.

That man was so strong, Waylon only hurt himself more while trying to escape. The kicks he gave behind him never hit their target and his free hand trying to force Eddie’s own open barely scratched the groom’s skin. It felt like being trapped in one of his nightmares. In front of that, he only was a vulnerable thing. One so easy to break…

The pain made his heart drop, no need to glance at his hand to know the blood was colouring his bandages.

He screamed again and again, hoping it’d make Eddie stop. Why had he taken care of him so gently, changing his bandages without waking him up, if it were to ruin everything at Waylon’s first misstep?

The hand on his neck moved to his throat and black dots quickly formed in his vision.

He was going to die!

“Ed… Eddie…” He tried to say. Words were blocked in his throat. Begging for his life wasn’t allowed but he could hear the nasty things Eddie spitted in his ear. So much anger… Where was it all hidden earlier? He talked like if Waylon had ruined his whole life.

The smaller man’s legs collapsed beneath him. He became a complete ragdoll to the mercy of its kidnapper.

In a last attempt, Waylon threw his free hand behind him and eventually, touched the angry man’s face. What was supposed to be a punch ended up being a soft caress. All his strength left his body, so when Eddie suddenly let him go, he fell, and his head hit the wall in front of them.

And that was it… The stupide flowery wallpaper and then nothing but the darkness. He wasn’t dead though, dead people don’t feel pain and Waylon, he felt it! In his limbs, around his throat like if a collar maintained him in place, and his head… it seemed about to explode, blood pumping in his ears at an alarming rate.

At some point, a hand stroked his face gently. He knew the same fingers imprinted in his sore skin were now fixing their mistakes… God he wanted to bite that hand. If he could hear Eddie scream like himself did then he’d be pleased.

The hate this man inspired Waylon, a person usually peaceful, knew no limits. If he could only yell it… Maybe the rage making his body shiver would finally stop torture him.

Two lips met his cheek. This time he clearly heard Eddie’s voice: “Don’t worry darling. Sleep well, I’m here to look after you.”

Like if the soothing tone worked on him! His body stopped shaking purely because he slowly woke up in _their_ bedroom.

“Yeah buddy, you did such a great job to protect him so far!” commented another voice.

Now Waylon was fully awake. The person talking… It triggered more memories than when he recognised Eddie. It used to be an ally but hearing him there put everything into question, maybe was it because of the way he interacted with his host.

“And look who’s finally with us! The princess deigns to honour us with her presence.” Richard Trager mocked.

The doctor was next to the bed Waylon laid on, walking in the room like if it belonged to him and not to _the patient_. Trager had always carried a strange aura but now it seemed to have melted into his skin. Just seeing the crooked smile made the injured man shivers again.

“Hello buddy! It’s been quite an eternity.”

Waylon had thousands of questions. The two main ones being: Why was Trager so calm and why wasn’t Eddie arrested already?

“Darling.”

At least that idiot wasn’t smiling too… The groom’s mouth formed a thin line on his scarred face. He looked like a dog who just peed in the house and that frustrated Waylon so much. Why that stupid face? His survival was nothing but a miracle, and he was supposed to feel sorry for Eddie? Heck no!

Unsure fingers touched his most injured hand. No bandages, just the trace of Eddie’s violence sutured probably by the same hand who had done it.

“Don’t… Don’t touch me.” Commanded Waylon. The presence of someone else made him more courageous. The patient surely wouldn’t hurt him in front of his doctor. Because Trager couldn’t be there for another reason but take the dangerous man back where he wouldn’t hurt anyone…

His words were ignored. The groom acted like if Waylon’s health state wasn’t his fault and he had the right to look worried.

“Eddie, could you grab us some drinks? I think your _darling_ is dehydrated.”

“Yes sure.”

Too many kisses later, he finally let go of Waylon’s hand and left the room, this not without a last glance. One look Waylon avoided by turning his head to the side, he really didn’t want to accord Eddie a regard, not after what he’d done.

The groom’s heavy steps soon in the stair, Trager finally decided to talk with Waylon. Just like they used to after every riot.

“You… You my buddy have a tough skin! The other brides didn’t last that long, the therapy might’ve worked on him. Unless you’re special…” His laugh made Waylon’s skin crawl.

“He’s going to kill me. Please, help me get out of here.” Begged Waylon. His situation was so hopeless he chose to ignore the signals and try.

Trager pulled the most amazed face he’d ever worn. What was so funny?

“Ah Waylon, you were the funniest of them all! I missed you when you abandoned us! I’m serious he, your departure left a place empty. And he…” He looked in the door’s direction. “He became _morose_!”

The slim man sat at the edge of the bed. After a long sigh, he ran his fingers in what was left of his grey hair and placed his eyes on Waylon.

“I should’ve seen it coming. Our friend has always been known to tell us what we wanted to hear, and him finally getting his shit together was exactly what I wanted to hear. To be honest, I was rooting for Eddie. After all those chases, every patient he caught… and yet he was still obsessed with that blonde girl! You. He was speaking of you in case you didn’t understand.”

Waylon straightened in the bed. “I-I’m not sure to understand anything. What the fuck is going on?”

Trager rolled his eyes and accused the engineer to not make enough efforts. Everything seemed so clear for him.

“Mister Blaire is right. For a smart man, you’re an idiot.”

Blaire… Just the name made Waylon shiver in disgust. He only saw him a couple of times and hated every conversation they ever had. This man seemed ready to everything to keep his asylum open as such, he seemed to even enjoy the terrible things happening there.

Trager looked at his watch and adjusted his glasses like if they were at the asylum one of those nights after a riot, and he needed to get home else he’d miss tonight’s football game.

“Listen buddy, we don’t have all day. Your man probably wouldn’t like to hear our conversation.”

“He isn’t…”

“Details, details!” Cut Trager. “Here’s what matter: I’m responsible for Eddie. And am the man who’s the most to lose if this is known. There are others, of course. And them… They would’ve cut your throat and send Eddie back where he belongs if they knew. Hell, they might even kill him too!”

“And I’m supposed to be thankful?”

“Well… Yeah. Eddie isn’t wrong on that point, showing gratitude isn’t a thing of yours! But I think you can understand this: I’ve made a little mistake by freeing Eddie. We all did. We thought Gluskin had earned the right to freedom after the help he provided at Mont Massive and he seemed to have change. But hey buddy, love is stronger than therapy!” He joked.

Waylon watched him incredulous. He tried to piece the things together, but the more Trager talked, the more the image forming scared him.

“To make everything clear… There’s no reason for anyone to know but us. Of course, as you can imagine, I won’t let you go back to your family. I can’t trust you. With all the times you tried to alarm the authorities about Mont Massive like a fucking whistleblower… No. And this decision wasn’t easy to take!”

“So what? You’re going to kill me?”

“You never listen, do you?” Richard Trager sighed, visibly annoyed. “Anyway, I doubt I’d go far if I touched one of your hair with the groom around. Now… It isn’t the same story about your family.”

Waylon moved so violently in the bed Trager quickly stood up and took a few steps back.

“If…”

“If what?? Wanna call Eddie and see what he thinks of Lisa?” Trager laughed. This wasn’t a ‘ _I do that because I’m forced too’_ situation. No, Richard Trager was genuinely taking pleasure out of seeing how things had evolved. The doctor could fix everything, he simply didn’t want to. After all, Eddie was his buddy.

“He kidnapped you. Too bad, my mistake. Also, too late! I can’t let you go now, too many risks to ruin the experimentations we made last year. And what about Eddie? Don’t be selfish Park.” Those words seemed to come directly from Blaire. No doubts those two were close.

“What are you suggesting exactly?” Oh, Waylon knew. But it was so fucked up he needed to hear it.

Trager’s smile contorted his face. “For you two to live the happy life buddy! He cares about you somehow. Look, he called me! You know what he did to the others, those women who passed out after he lost his temper? Yeah, better not telling you… But I can tell you what will happen to Lisa and your sons if you run away. I, we, won’t lose everything we’ve built for a stupide engineer. Play his game or die, for all I care, but don’t you dare trying to flee and telling anyone.”

By the time he was done talking, Waylon body was shaking out of anger and fear. He wanted to cry but mainly hit the doctor so strongly his head would separate from his body.

Richard Trager watched him like an experimental subject. Wasn’t he one? Something in the doctor’s words made him believe it was the case.

“Ah you hate me now… Here let me give you a few advices to survive: Forget about the slurs, obey, never ask him anything about his childhood and show him interest. Well, not too much interest. Would be bad if he knew what was under that little dress.”

“It’s a nightgown.” Waylon corrected. He only wanted Trager to shut his mouth.

The man only nodded before turning his head to watch the empty doorway. Something had caught his attention and Waylon deciphered fear before the ugly smile came back.

“You can enter Eddie. Ah this man is a shadow when he wants to...”

The first thing he did while entering the room was analysing Waylon’s face and he must haven’t liked what he saw… His expression became cold when he looked at Richard.

Like if he weren’t the biggest danger for Waylon, he moved between him and the guest. A certain hostility floated in the room. One that Trager chose to ignore.

“Would’ve preferred a beer but water will do!”

The doctor tried to take the bottle from his ex-patient, but Eddie moved it from his reach. He’d brought it for his darling. And if Waylon would’ve enjoyed pissing Eddie off by not taking it, he was too thirsty!

Trager took no offense at it. With all his confidence, he congratulated Eddie for calling him. Not like the ex-patient patient had many other people he could’ve called in that situation… Waylon had passed out and he panicked, too bad the doctor he called wasn’t even good in his own field! Richard thought himself essential, but Waylon wasn’t fooled, Eddie had had no other choices. Though he didn’t comment on it, too busy fighting with that stupid bottle cap.

The fight lasted during the whole time the doctor talked. He gave Eddie advices, things like never letting Waylon go outside, to always keep an eye on him, and to try being more forgiving.

“Women, Eddie!” He stated while glancing at Waylon. “You know how they’re, don’t let that one go.”

“Never I…”

Eddie was interrupted by an object pressed on his leg. 

“I can’t open it.” Pouted Waylon. If they could both shut their mouths… Eddie obliged, a way too enthusiastic to help for his darling taste. “Now can I finally be left alone, you two speak too much.”

They both agreed. Though Trager didn’t leave without a final warning disguised by a polite formula to not trigger the groom. Interesting how for someone with such a big mouth, he still feared the things Eddie could do.

As soon as they walked out of the room, Waylon sobbed, his courage leaving him suddenly. Part of him thought he should’ve begged, promise to never talk. That he should’ve fought for it. Didn’t he want to get back home and see his family again?

Perhaps, somehow, he thought all this was well deserved. Things could’ve been different if he’d helped Eddie out all this time ago. Or wouldn’t they?

His sobs were so loud he didn’t hear the car’s engine roared before leaving their hidden spot in the woods. Richard Trager leaving them behind as he drove off to join his happy life. Nor he heard Eddie coming back and calling him sweet names. His face hidden behind his knees, only the cries filled his ear. This time, he’d lost everything.

Did he thought Trager capable of hurting his family? Yes. And if it weren’t him, Jeremy Blaire and the people working for his society, Murkoff, gladly would.

If he’d known the other night with them had been the last, instead of letting his paranoia won, he would’ve read the boys a bedtime story. 

At that thought, he hugged his legs tighter and let a desperate noise join his sobs. 

This scene made the tall man froze in the doorway but there was none to notice it. He watched Waylon without knowing what to do. Just like in his past… Only when it calmed done, after several long minutes, he authorized himself to move.

The large palm placed on his knees disturbed Waylon from a well-deserved crying session.

“Darling, talk to me. You know you can tell me everything.” Eddie sounded different. Like if someone else were with them and needed to hear those words. Maybe that person did, but not Waylon.

“But I don’t want to!” After that that, even staying near Eddie made him sick. Of course, running out of the house was out of question so he found an alternative.

Like his sons would do during a game of hide and seek, Waylon hid himself under the bed. All the dust accumulated there wouldn’t make him leave.

The terrifying silence, during which he imagined being pulled out of under the bed violently, was broken after a while.

“Fine… Hide yourself there. But I might eventually run out of patience darling. Don’t keep me waiting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing this chapter, mainly Rick! And I learned so many english words in the process! What did YOU like?? 
> 
> Aaah hope it was good! Thanks y'all for kudos, comments, hits... Can't wait to share the next one and sorry, I'm slow ^^"


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